


Expect the Unexpected

by ephemeral_epiphany



Category: Clexa-fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abby Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anya & Lexa (The 100) Are Siblings, Artist Clarke Griffin, Bellamy has no major role, Dark Past, F/F, F/M, Jake Lives, Nia's followers are death eaters, Oblivious Clarke, Octavia Ships It, Self-Fulfilling Prophecy, night bloods, sassy Anya, soulmates also communicate by writing on their skin, soulmates can feel physical and emotional pain, when they are near their soulmate their hands heat up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeral_epiphany/pseuds/ephemeral_epiphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin lives an ordinary life, with ordinary parents. She never questions her parents, because she's never had reason to. She's never afraid to get messy and take risks, but in the town of Plymouth, England there are never really any risks for her to take. Nothing out of the ordinary has ever happened in Plymouth, and nothing ever will. Right?</p><p>The story will be following Clarke Griffin's journey through Hogwarts, along with all of her friends. It's a soulmate au in which a person can feel their soulmate's emotional and physical pain to a degree, and they can communicate by writing on their skin. The rating may change as the story progresses. I'll try to update every Sunday or so, but if I don't I'm sorry. (I suck at descriptions)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ordinary Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm fairly new to writing fanfiction, so any suggestions or advice would be much appreciated. If you find any grammar mistakes don't hesitate to let me know. I would love to see how I could further improve my writing, seeing as sometimes it's not as good as I hope for it to be. If you find anything confusing, I'll try to clear it up right away but just be sure to let me know. I'm always open to constructive criticism, so if you think that I'm doing anything wrong or if you think my writing seems unprofessional don't be afraid to call me out on it. I'm looking forward to writing, and I'll try to have a chapter out every week, but sometimes things happen that are out of my control, and I may not be able to update as regularly as I might have hoped. I also have this story posted on Wattpad, so I'll be posting some of the already posted chapters every Sunday, and I'll try to get more written in the meantime.

Clarke's feet dragged through the empty hallway, scuffing on the obsolescent maroon carpet. She dropped her school bag onto the hardwood floor and peeled off her sweat-drenched socks, mumbling and complaining of exhaustion as she struggled to pull off her shoes. Her best friend's house was nearly ten blocks away from her small flat, and her frequent visits were taking a toll on her feet. 

"Mum?" she called down the empty hallway, patiently waiting for a response.

"In here, sweetie!" Clarke's mom called from the kitchen. Clarke walked towards the sound of her mother's voice, her feet sticking to the wooden floor as she walked. "Lunch should be finished in an hour or so, I didn't realize you would be home so soon," Clarke's mom said, poking her head out of the archway connecting the kitchen to the living room, making sure her daughter heard her explanation.

"Okay mum, I'll just watch the telly until your done!" Clarke said, walking past her mother and grabbing the remote to the television. She took a seat on the forest green couch, wriggling around to make herself comfortable. 

 

\---------------------------------------

Clarke is ten years old and she still believes in all the magical fantasy stories, hoping to find a small safe haven in all of the books she reads and all of her artworks and paintings. She has a doctor for a mom who is specialized with trauma surgeries and a father that is an aerospace engineer for the ESA, or more specifically, the UK Space Agency.

Clarke lived a normal life with normal parents, and she didn't mind that nothing exciting ever happened. She is, in fact, moderately satisfied with her mundane life. Not entirely happy but satisfied. She always hoped, though, that something exciting would happen. She did see some strange shape appear on her wrist once, something that she didn't put there, but her parents had convinced her she just imagined it. A few months later she felt like someone punched her in the face, but her mom and dad had convinced her, again, that she must have just been imagining it. After that, her mother told her to never write on herself, and Clarke of course obeyed, not wanting to be disrespectful. She never really said anything about the strange pains she would get, since she knew it would upset her parents from the reaction they gave her the first time it happened. She wanted something more in her life, but she could never figure out what. She felt lonely at times, even with her parents and her one close friend.

Clarke travels a lot because of her parents' jobs, and she doesn't mind. Clarke has been to, in total, six different schools. She never really stopped to make any friends besides Wells, of course. She has known Wells since her early preschool years, and he moved around just as much as she did, seeing as Wells' father was also an aerospace engineer for the ESA. She and Wells are inseparable, always doing everything together. Wells taught her how to play chess, he always let her borrow pencils in school, and she never has to ask when visiting his home.

Life in Plymouth is nice, there are many landscapes, and so much historically importance. She can paint many of the landscapes, seeing as her flat in Plymouth was right off the coast. Clarke's absolute favorite thing to paint are the sunsets. She loves to paint the beautiful reds and oranges bouncing off the dark navy blue of the ocean.

Her mom, Abby, and her dad, Jake, were currently getting prepared for her eleventh birthday, but what they were getting prepared for she has yet to figure out. She usually has a small birthday with Wells, but her mother and father had previously explained that it would only be her and her family at her birthday. At the time she had complained, moaning about how she wanted only wanted _one_ person to come to her birthday, but she later found out that that wasn't the smartest idea because she was sent to her room soon after.

 

\---------------------------------------

Today is Clarke Griffin's birthday, and she is more than excited to finally be as old as her best friend, Wells. Clarke is seated at the table, waiting as her mom, Abby, brings her lunch to the table. Abby placed her soup and and bread on the table, carefully so not to spill it. Clarke brought the spoon of soup to her mouth, blowing softly on the steaming liquid.

"Are you excited for your birthday?" Abby inquired enthusiastically, giving her daughter a small smile. Clarke nodded vigorously in reply, nearly spilling her soup on the dainty tablecloth. Abby chuckled at her daughter's excitement, as she placed her hands in her lap and crossed her legs. Clarke took another sip of her soup, turning quickly at the sound of footsteps. Clarke hastily bounded out her chair to greet the footsteps, and she hugged the person tightly, only reaching their waist.

"Dad!" Clarke shouted, burying her face in his stomach. Jake chuckled, brushing his daughter's hair out of her face. Clarke's smile widened as he bent down to give her a hug.

"Hey there, Princess. Excited for your big day?" He said, giving her a charming smile as she nodded happily again. Jake rolled up his sleeve to look down at his watch, checking the time. "Looks like you missed it there sport, it's already five!" Clarke gasped and grasped at his arm to look at his watch, which read 2:58. She pouted and crossed her arms, her bottom lip slightly protruding. 

"Dad it's not five, it's just nearly three!" She said, sticking out her bottom lip and huffing at him.

"Is that so? I guess I must've read it wrong. Good thing I have you here to help me," Jake said, picking Clarke up and placing her on the couch to tickle her sides. Clarke giggled, struggling to get out of her father's grip. Abby walked into the room, placing her hands on her hips and smiling at them.

"Come on you two, the soup is getting cold," Abby said, chuckling to herself as she walked back into the kitchen. Clarke finally escaped her dad's grip, and she jumped off of the couch and into the kitchen. She sat back in her chair, checking up at the clock and read 3:04. Clarke quietly sipped her soup as Abby washed the dishes. Jake walked up behind her and whispered something into her ear, and Clarke tried to lean forward to here them better.

"Should we have told her?" Clarke subtly leaned in to hear her father's voice, which was rasping quietly into her mother's ear.

"Of course not, you know that we want a normal life for her. She seems perfectly happy right where she is," her mother replied briskly, and Clarke had a sneaking suspicion that they were talking about her. _Why would they be talking about me, what didn't they tell me?_ Clarke wondered, many questions clouding her thoughts. Clarke quickly peered back at the clock. It was 3:06. She could've sworn she heard a quiet flapping.

"But she'll figure it out when she sees writing all over her arms, or when she starts getting random pains," her father looked panicked, and he ran a hand through his sandy hair, making the gray streaks more visible.

"We'll deal with that when it happens," Abby said, pursing her lips and scrubbing the dishes more brashly.

Clarke took another sip when she knew that she heard something. Clarke looked out of the open window closest to her, and she could just make out a flying figure, hastily approaching. As it got closer and closer, she ducked and the winged figure swooped through the kitchen, dropping a letter on the table and disappearing back out of the window. Her mother and father quickly turned around looking at the letter with concern. Clarke saw her own name, Clarke Griffin, on the letter and grabbed it.

"Sweetie, I'm not so sure if you should-" but Abby was cut off by the ripping of the envelope, and Clarke opened the papers, scanning the words on the page.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Wit., Chf. Sorceress, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Witches)_

Dear Ms. Griffin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on **1 September**. We await your owl by no later than **31 July**.

Yours sincerely,

Rubeus Hagrid

Deputy Headmaster

Clarke looks through the letter, confused. _Magic isn't real... is it?_ Clarke pondered the question for a second, only shaking her head to look at the next piece of parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

**UNIFORM**

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

**COURSE BOOKS**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_

by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_

by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions_

by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

by Quentin Trimble

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS**

**ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK**

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

Clarke looked up at her parents expectantly hoping for a laugh or a joking smile, but she saw her parents looking back at her with similar expressions of concern. If this school was real, there was no way she would stay home. She had always loved the thought that magic was real, and if it was there was nothing going to stop her from going to Hogwarts. She would run away if she had to.

"Clarke, you see, we meant to tell you, but we just-" Jake scratched the nape of his neck, trying to find the right words.

"We don't want you to go Clarke. We want you to have a normal life. Jake went to Hogwarts, and he just doesn't know if it's the right fit for you," Abby says with a polite tone, looking down at her daughter.

"So the school- it's real?" Clarke asked, looking at the letter again to search for any indication that it was fake.

"Well, yes. But we've already made it clear that we do not want you to attend," Abby says, tapping her foot in frustration. Clarke peered down at the letter again, making her decision.

"Okay,"

"Okay?" Abby and Jake repeat, shock visible on both of their faces.

"Okay," Clarke repeated, placing the parchments cautiously back into the envelope, and putting it lazily in her pocket.

"Well, now that that's decided we will be having supper in a few hours. Be sure to come downstairs when I call you," Abby says, a look of suspicion clear on her face.

"Will do," Clarke says with a smile, already walking up the stairs to her room.

 

\---------------------------------------

She would find a way to get to that school.There was no way she was going to learn about stems when other people were learning magic spells.

Clarke Griffin is stubborn as a mule and when she has her mind set, nothing will change it.


	2. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm fairly new to writing fanfiction, so any suggestions or advice would be much appreciated. If you find any grammar mistakes don't hesitate to let me know. I would love to see how I could further improve my writing, seeing as sometimes it's not as good as I hope for it to be. If you find anything confusing, I'll try to clear it up right away but just be sure to let me know. I'm always open to constructive criticism, so if you think that I'm doing anything wrong or if you think my writing seems unprofessional don't be afraid to call me out on it. I'm looking forward to writing, and I'll try to have a chapter out every week, but sometimes things happen that are out of my control, and I may not be able to update as regularly as I might have hoped. I also have this story posted on Wattpad, so I'll be posting some of the already posted chapters every Sunday, and I'll try to get more written in the meantime.

Clarke walked up the stairs to her room carefully, stepping ever so lightly so not to crinkle or bend the letter. She had only two days to send some sort of response that she would be attending the peculiar school, and she wanted to make sure that the people who sent the letter knew that in fact, she would be attending. She hoped that there would be some way to get it back to the school, but she wasn't sure where the school was to begin with. She thought that maybe someone else would know. Clarke scanned the letter again, looking for any information on where the school was, and how she be arriving at the school but she was left just as frustrated, if not more, than before she looked at the vague letter. Clarke decided it was best not to wait for something to happen, so she began to write a letter to confirm that she would be attending at Hogwarts, no matter what her parents thought.

Clarke drummed the small pen against her chin chin, tapping her foot lightly on her carpeted floor. She bit the apex of the pen, trying to think of what she was going to write. She settled for a simple 'I, Clarke Elizabeth Griffin, will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'. It was short and to the point, and that was enough for Clarke. She put the small slip of parchment into an envelope and pulled out the other envelope for a return address, but she, again, found nothing. _How, ___Clarke thought, _am I supposed to send a letter with nowhere to send it to?_ Clarke decided to leave it on her desk along with an assortment of things, and preoccupied herself by trying to sort out all the questions she wanted answered in her head. Who, though, would answer these questions? She sat down at her desk, stumped. She heard the faint footsteps of someone padding up the stairs, so she quickly stuffed away the letter in a small drawer inside of her petite wooden desk. Someone rapped softly at the door, only to creak it open themselves.

"Knock, knock," Clarke turned to the direction of the voice.

"Hey Princess, it's me. I want to talk to you about something," she heard her father say in undertone, and she walked hesitantly to the door to see him. "Clarke, I know that you want to go to Hogwarts. If I were you I would want to go too," Jake chuckled out, causing Clarke to stop dead in her tracks. A look of panic crossed Clarke's face, and she looked up at her father, her eyes wide. "I think you should go. Your mother's the one who doesn't want you to go, you know how protective she is of you. I think you'll be able to handle yourself just fine," Clarke's father gave her a gentle smile, and Clarke returned the gesture. "I can try to answer any questions you have, if you'll let me. I know your angry that we didn't tell you anything, Clarke," Jake said, stepping into the room and taking a seat at her desk, causing the chair to squeak under his weight. 

"It's okay dad, I forgive you. But I do have some questions," Clarke sorted through her thoughts, trying to find the most important question she needed answered. Jake smiled with relief, his shoulders relaxing after his daughters words. Clarke walked from the small doorway to her bed, taking a seat on the colorful comforter. Jake stood up from the desk, taking a seat next to Clarke. The bed slumped under him, causing Clarke to move closer to her father. 

"Ask away," he says, ruffling his daughter's blonde hair. Clarke huffs, reaching to fix her formerly braided tresses. 

"Well, first, where is the school and how am I supposed to get to it?" she asks, her voice muffled as she leans her head down to braid her hair. Jake waits for her to finish braiding her hair, chuckling at Clarke's frustration. 

"The school is in a place where muggles can't see it, and you take a train. Actually," he pauses to dig in his pockets, "I have your ticket right here. Your mother didn't want you to have it, but you know I think you deserve to go," Clarke looked at the ticket in her hands, its edges bent and worn. She looked at the golden calligraphy on the ticket, her eyes widening at the location of the station. 

"What's a muggle? The train's in London? London's awfully far away. Are we going to take the train to get to London?" Clarke's questions stream out, anxious because London is about four and a half hours away, and her mother would surely notice that she was missing. 

"Yes. We're not to far away from the nearest train station so we can just ride our bikes there. A muggle is another word for someone who can't perform magic, and cannot see any of the extraordinary things that witches and wizards can," her father replied, leaning over to speak to her. "Well, tomorrow we will be taking a bus to Charing Cross. I've convinced your mother that we're going on a a sort of road trip for four days to get your mind off of Hogwarts. We need to get your supplies for the term, and it's best to do it as soon as possible. We'll be waking up at five in the morning tomorrow, so I suggest getting to sleep early tonight. As for getting to Kings Cross, I have tickets to get from here to Paddington to Kings Cross," Jake explained calmly, and Clarke groaned at the thought of waking up so early. "Dad, the bus will take eight hours to get there. So that means that we'll-" "Get there at about one in the morning, yes," Jake interrupted, and Clarke groaned again. "Pack what you need," Jake said briskly, getting up from the bed and leaving an imprint of where he was sitting. 

"Wait, I have one more question," Clarke pulls her father back onto the bed, grabbing at his sleeve. 

"Go ahead," her father nods, gesturing for her to continue. 

"How do I send the letter confirming that I'm going to Hogwarts?" she questions, nodding to her desk where she is currently keeping the letter. 

"The owl that came in this afternoon should return tomorrow to pick up the letter, you'll need to give him these," Jake pulls out five small bronze coins from his pocket. Clarke eyes them curiously, noticing that they are very different from pounds. 

"As you can tell, the currency of the wizarding world is very different from ours. Twenty-nine Knuts, the bronze ones I just handed you, to one Sickle, a slightly bigger silver coin, and there are seventeen Sickles in a Galleon, which are large golden coins," he states, making sure she understands. Clarke nods her head, a determined look on her face as she tries to remember what he just told her for future reference. 

"Jake and Clarke are you up there? It's time for supper!" Clarke hears her mother call. Clarke stands up, walking over to her desk and opening the drawer. She quickly places the strange coins in the drawer, next to the letter she has prepared for the owl. 

"Let's best not be late, you know how your mother is," Jake says in a soft tone, standing up from the rickety bed and proceeding to stretch. 

"Yes mum! We're coming!" Clarke exclaims, making her way to the door. 

\---------------------------------------

Clarke was shaken awake in the morning by strong hands and she yawned, rubbing at her eyes. Her tired expression turned to one of excitement as she remembered the talk she had with her father the night before. She waved her father out of the room so she could get changed and quickly wash herself. As she exited the washroom, she heard something tapping at her window, and she slipped on her shoes to find the source of the noise. It was the owl from the afternoon before, waiting patiently at her window as her father said it would be. 

She opened her window as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake her mother, because she was grumpy in the mornings and she didn't want her mother to have second thoughts on the so-called road trip. She trotted over to the desk and opened the drawer, removing the letter and the small bronze coins. The coins felt cool in her hands as her thumb and index finger rubbed it's smooth surface. She examined them more closely, and noticed its irregular shaping. Clarke shook her head, remembering that she needed to give the owl the letter. She wasn't exactly sure how to give it, so she held it out in the bird's direction, hoping it would understand. The owl grabbed the letter with it's talon, and held out it's other foot which had a small pouch attached to it. She assumed that was where the coins went, so she unzipped the tiny leather pouch and carefully places the knuts inside. She zipped the pouch back up, and the owl swooped out of the room, quickly disappearing at the horizon. Clarke heard a soft knock at her door, and she turned just in time to see her father waiting in the doorway. 

"Clarke, quickly, it's time to go if we want to make it on the bus in time," her father jerked his thumb to the stairway. Clarke nodded, and she grabbed the book bag she had prepared the night before, and walked to meet her father at the top of the stairs. "I expected you to take longer actually, so we have time to eat a small breakfast," her father explained, and they headed downstairs to the kitchen. They ate in silence, and once they were finished they walked out the door and to the bus stop. Clarke rubbed her hands together for warmth, noticing it was a particularly cool morning and she had forgotten to bring gloves. Before Clarke could think about her mistake, the bus pulled up to the stop and it's doors opened with a load hiss. "After you, Princess," her father stood in front of her, his arms in front of him as he gestured for her to board the bus. Clarke smiled, and walked up the stairs and through the aisles in search of an open seat. 

\---------------------------------------

Before they knew it, they were headed to Charing Cross. Clarke sat happily in the seat next to her father, looking outside the large window. She heard her father snore and she giggled, knowing that waking up this early in the morning had him exhausted. Clarke looked back out of the window and pulled out her sketchpad. She started to draw what she saw outside, humming a tune to herself. 

\---------------------------------------

"Okay folks, in about ten minutes we'll be at Charing Cross," Clarke heard the bus driver say over the speaker, and it was followed by a few cheers from the other passengers. Clarke prodded her father, who had gone back to sleep after playing many different games to pass the time with Clarke. He continued to snore on, so Clarke proceeded to shake him awake. 

"Hm- what's- where are we?" 

"Dad, we're almost at Charing Cross," Clarke smiled widely, excited even if it was half-one. Her father rubbed his eyes and checked his watch, rolling the sleeves of his shirt back. 

"So we are," he said, looking down at Clarke and smiling. Once the bus made it to a complete stop, Clarke and her father stood up, waiting for the people in front of them to exit the bus. When they got off of the bus, Clarke wobbled around, not used to the stable ground as she had been sitting on the bus for many hours. "Stay close to me Clarke, we're not too far from the Leaky Cauldron," he said, taking his daughter's hand as they walked into the town, which was nearly empty. They walked toward a very run down looking place, and Clarke looked at her father questioningly. When they walked in, the chairs were being stacked, and the tables cleaned. Jake waved Clarke over, motioning for her to follow him up the battered looking stairs. "I thought it'd be easiest if we just stayed here overnight, so we can get right into what we need to do tomorrow," her father explained himself as they walked into a very old and rustic looking room. There were two small four poster beds, and once Clarke placed her bag on the ground, she changed into her pyjamas, and headed straight to bed.

\---------------------------------------

They woke up at ten in the morning, well rested and ready to start shopping for the supplied Clarke needs. They headed down the steps, and people turned to look at them, but most went about their day, drinking from their glasses and chatting with other people. Clarke thought they looked like a strange assortment of people, but she kept walking and shifted to stand more close to her father. Jake made a sharp turn to a small table not far from what looked like an exit, motioning for Clarke to take a seat. Her father rubbed his hands nervously on his trousers, turning to look at Clarke. 

"So, I know that there's one thing that you don't know to ask about, and I think that now would be the best time to tell you, seeing as we have more than enough time on our hands," Jake smiled at his daughter, obviously anxious about what he needed to say. 

"Okay," she nodded to her dad as a sign to continue, confusion clear in her expression. Jake smiled again and took a deep breath. 

"So, there's a lot you don't know about the wizarding world, but there's one really crucial thing I should explain. When you were eight years old, a symbol or some kind of drawing appeared on your wrist, and you told us that you did not draw it. We explained that you must have been tired, and just imagined it being there. A few months later, you said that you felt like someone punches you in the face, but you didn't hit your head on anything, and we used the same excuse as before. It was not the case for either of those situations. Everyone in the wizarding world has a soulmate, or someone who they are destined to be with. It is always a bond of true love, and it is very strong. Your soulmate can be found in the most unexpected of places, but they'll always be there for you. The person who wrote on your arm when you were eight was your soulmate, and they were also the reason you felt like someone had punched you," Jake smiled warmly, explaining the concept of soulmates fondly. 

Clarke tilted her head in confusion at her father's explanation of the two strange situations. "Whatever your soulmate writes on their arm will appear on yours, but it has to be them writing it. You can communicate to your soulmate, but personal information can't be shared. The writing disappears after an hour or so. If you are ever close to your soulmate, your hands will start to heat up, so it's easy to tell when they're in the area. The reason your face hurt was because you can also feel both your soulmates physical, and emotional pain. I know that sounds really scary, but you feel a lessened version of what your soulmate feels. That's all I really know to tell you," Jake finished, and tapped his finger patiently against the wooden table.

"Is mum your soulmate?" Clarke asks curiously, and Jake nods his head.

"With muggles, though, everything tends to be lessened. It doesn't mean I don't love her just as much as I would if she were a witch, but just that I don't really feel her pain, and I can write to her, but usually it just looks faded," Jake explains cautiously, hoping that Clarke knows how much he loves her mother. Clarke nods in understanding.

"So does that mean my soulmate is a wizard?" Clarke says softly, mostly to herself.

"I would think so, yes," Jake answers her question, and Clarke nods again.

"If I get a tattoo, would it be there permanently for my soulmate?" Clarke asks, and Jake rubs his stubble, pondering the question.

"I don't think so. I've never heard of that happening before, but who knows. Magic works in strange ways," Jake stood up from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. "I think we should get going," Jake tells her, and Clarke gets out of the small chair, walking towards the exit with her father. 

They walked through a small crowd of people and out into an alleyway outside of the shop. It looked as though it was a dead end, but Clarke saw her father pull something out of his front pocket, a wand maybe, and he tapped the bricks in a particular manner that Clarke tried to remember. Clarke felt the ground start to shake, and the bricks started to move apart from each other. As soon as the bricks separate, Clarke's jaw drops and she looks around, her eyes full of wonder and amazement. 

"We're here. Welcome to Diagon Alley, Clarke," Jake says, looking at all the stores intently. Clarke is too busy taking in all of the different shops and people to hear him. 

Many people with robes, wands, hats, and other cool looking things walking into colorful shops with weird names and strange looking products. Clarke walked into the crowd of people, her father close behind. Clarke looked back at her father and saw him pull out a list, the one from her letter, and watched as his eyes scanned through it, flitting back and forth. 

"So it looks like the first thing we should do is go to Gringotts, the wizard bank, so we can withdraw some money from my account," he explained, picking Clarke up and placing her on his shoulders. "It'll be easier this way, we'll get there quicker," She giggled and played with his sandy hair as they started to approach a very tall building. It was very grande, huge white pillars that slanted inward and looked as though it should've already collapsed. Jake took Clarke off his shoulders, and brought her inside. 

Clarke looked around and saw strange looking creatures who were shorter than her, and appeared to be very angry. Clarke was curious to what they were, but she thought it would be rude to ask what they were. Clarke took another moment to look at the creatures before her gaze fell on an amazing grand chandelier above her head, and her fingers were itching to draw the scene before her. She refrained from drawing though, because her father was walking towards the front of the room, where one of the creatures sat. Clarke walked briskly to where her father stood before a large desk, looming above her father and herself. 

"I'd like to make a withdraw from the Griffin Vault," her father stated, and a creature leaned over the desk, peering at him with beady eyes. The creature held out it's hand, long nails protruding off of it's stubby fingers. 

"I will need your key," the creature grumbled, and her father rummaged in his pockets, pulling out a small golden key and handing it to the creature. The creature examined the key before yelling, "Vault three-hundred and nineteen!" which caused one of the other creatures to run by with a lantern about the size of the creature itself. Clarke and her father followed it into a small cramped cart, and they rode off into the dark cavernous place area. Clarke shivered as the cool air pelted her from every angle. They stopped abruptly at a large vault, and the creature got out of the cart to open the vault with the key that the other creature had handed it previously. When the vault swung open, Clarke saw many of the coins that her father had described. She watched as her father carefully stepped out of the small cart and passed the small creature as he walked into the vault. He grabbed three small bags that she assumed were filled with coins, and he stepped back into the cart. 

\---------------------------------------

Once they finally got out of the bank, Clarke was eager to purchase things from the many shops they had passed on their way to Gringotts. She was also curious to what the creatures in the bank were. As Clarke walked through the crowds of people, she asked, 

"What were those creatures- the ones that were in the bank?" 

"They were goblins. They're a quite nasty lot, but they don't cause any trouble," Jake clarifies, walking more quickly as they approached more shops. 

Clarke walked down the cobblestone path, quickening her pace to catch up with her father. 

"The next thing we need to buy are your robes, and we can buy those at Madam Malkin's," Jake pointed a dainty looking shop not to far away. They walked in, and there was a shuffle of movement as someone popped up behind a cabinet. 

"Hogwarts?" the lady questioned, snapping her fingers so her glasses could appear. She puts the glasses on, squinting at Clarke. 

"Yes, ma'am," Clarke says stiffly. 

Clarke saw the lady pull out a wand, flicking it as rulers and a needle floated midair. The lady went to the back to grab black robes, hats, coats and gloves. 

"Let's get started then, shall we?" and Clarke stepped up get fitted for her clothes. 

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After a lot of sewing, and 'Yes, I think this will do nicely,' or 'This fits very well, don't you think, dear?' Clarke finally had her robes and all the other clothing she needed. Jake had gone to get her books, cauldrons, scales, glass phials and her telescope while she was being fitted. Clarke was excited, because she would finally be able to get a wand, and a pet, what she had really been ecstatic for. She wanted an owl, because the one that had delivered her letter seemed very sweet and very intelligent, and she also supposed it would be useful if she needed to deliver any letters or just to have a friend. 

"Okay, Clarke. So now that we've gotten all of your school supplies, why don't we go pick out a pet," her father suggested, walking down the cobblestone path. Clarke squealed enthusiastically and pulled her father by his arm into Eeylops Owl Emporium, a shop she saw when she was walking back from Gringotts. She looked around, feathers everywhere and a lot of loud squawking. She listened as the owls ruffled their feathers and nipped at them. 

She walked past each cage until one caught her attention. It was a very friendly looking owl with sleek brown feathers and a reddish tint. It looked straight at Clarke, tilting its head slightly. It flapped its wings, displaying its regal feathers proudly. 

"I want this one," Clarke says pointing to the owl that had her so fascinated, the owl hooted to concur with her statement. 

"That's a Tawny Owl. Good choice," said the man as he swished his wand to bring the cage that held said owl to the counter to purchase it. 

"Very friendly and very clever birds, owls are. He's a charming one," the employee smiled, admiring the Tawny Owl and stroking the bird's head with his index finger. 

"I think I'll name it Flame" Clarke thought aloud, standing on her toes to reach the counter. She also admired the way it looked, the feather's reminding her of a flickering fire. 

"Well then, Flame here is going to cost you ten galleons," he said, smiling down at Clarke. Jake placed ten large gold coins, or galleons, on the counter. Clarke left with a smile on her face, and owl in hand. 

"The last thing we need to get is your wand, and Ollivander's is the best place for that," Jake told her, walking briskly towards another shop. 

\---------------------------------------

A small bell tinkles as they step into Ollivander's, and Clarke immediately becomes aware of a very eccentric looking man walking towards them, his coattails swishing behind him. 

"Well, if it isn't Jake Griffin." The man said, reaching out his hand for Clarke's father to shake. 

"Cherry, Dragon, 13 1/4″, Quite Flexible, was it not?" the man, who Clarke assumes is Ollivander, asks with a radiant smile. 

"It is sir, but today we are here for my daughter," Clarke's dad says, gesturing to Clarke who is standing behind him. Clarke gives a small wave and a smile to the man, who inspects her and rulers flit around, taking measurements. He stalks to the back and sorts through a few boxes. 

"Hold out your wand hand," Ollivander commands, and she looks at him with confusion.

"My-"

"Which hand do you write with?" Ollivander questions, his voice raspy.

"My left hand, sir," Clarke answers, and Ollivander rubs his stubble before rushing to the back again, pulling out a few more boxes.

"Hold out your left hand," Ollivander tells her, and she does so.

"Here, try this. It's Pine, Phoenix, 13 3/4″, Pliant. Give it a flick," he says, opening the box and handing her the wand. She flicked it and nearly blew all of the papers on Ollivander's desk off of it. "No, no that won't do," Ollivander said before sorting through the variety of boxes he had set out. "Here, try this one. Cedar, Unicorn, 14″, Reasonably Supple I believe. Go ahead, give it a wave," he says, and Clarke once again waves the wand, which flew out of her hand right away. "Absolutely not," he goes to the back again before taking a box out and blowing some dust off of it. "Try this," he said handing her the wand. "English Oak, Phoenix, 13″, Supple," he said, and Clarke gave it a wave. 

It opened all of the drawers from the cabinet behind him, making some of the papers fly out. "That's a no then," he said, and he went into the very back before pulling out a sleek case with a coat of dust covering it. He quickly blew the dust off and walked over to where Clarke was standing. "Try this one. Dogwood, Phoenix feather, 13 3/4″, Flexible," he said and handed her the wand. When Clarke picked it up, it felt more like an extension of her arm then anything else. She waved it and a few sparks flew out the end. Ollivander clapped happily, before sticking the wand back in it's case and bringing it to the counter. 

"That will be seven galleons," he said holding his hand out. Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out seven of the gold coins and placed it in the palm of Ollivander's hand. 

"Thank you Ollivander, it was a pleasure seeing you again," Jake said before taking Clarke out of the shop. "Come on then, let's head back to the Leaky Cauldron. I'll hide your stuff in the attic of the garage when we get home, your mother will never go in there. I'll also let Flame out in there, there are plenty of mice and rats for him to catch. You can't say a word about this to anyone, even Wells. You also cannot do magic outside of school, or you'll be expelled," he explains, and Clarke nodded her head and grabbed his hand, walking on the cobblestone path as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. 

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The next day, they get back on the bus to get back to Plymouth, and they arrive home at one in the morning. Clarke's father stashes away all of her supplies in the garage attic, and lets Flame out of his cage just as he said he would. Once Clarke and her father make sure everything is properly hidden in case of the unusual event that her mother might go into the garage attic, they walk into the house, and into their rooms. Clarke collapses onto her bed with a smile on her face, falling asleep just as she gets her pyjamas on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, thank you so much for reading my story. Any feedback is welcome, and I'd love to hear what you guys think of my story. If you want to talk to me about my story or if you just want to chat, you're welcome to pm me on [tumblr](http://fluffypinks.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, thank you so much for reading my story. Any feedback is welcome, and I'd love to hear what you guys think of my story. If you want to talk to me about my story or if you just want to chat, you're welcome to pm me on [tumblr](http://fluffypinks.tumblr.com).


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